


There's Room for Two

by Tenoko1



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Commission fic, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14024250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: For captainhaterade; a coda Crobby ficlet in which Juliet makes heaven her new home and Bobby gets visitors he doesn't strictly mind.





	There's Room for Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainhaterade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhaterade/gifts).



> Note, I posted this as chapter in the Prompt series, but going forward as I do these I'll add them individually in order to summarize and tag their prompters.

The morning air was chill enough Bobby considered the need for a layer beyond the flannel shirt he wore, but lethargic contentment kept him seated in the rocker, the heel of his boot maintaining the steady rhythm as he sipped coffee and watched the sky shift colors with the rising sun.

    It wasn’t real, but it may as well have been. It was real enough, the way it looked and felt and simply was. The wet cool of the air was just that side of uncomfortable, the curl of steam from his coffee enough to keep him seated. Dew covered the tulips of Karen’s flower bed, light refracting off the drops and making them sparkle like crystal.

    It was peaceful, and honestly, after a life of… well, all of it, it was the peace that he appreciated the most. The creak of the old wood porch as he rocked, the scent of pine and flowers and coffee.

    A soft keening whine and a snort made the corner of his mouth crook, free hand dropping to plunge into thick black fur to scratch Juliet behind the ears. If he were sitting on the steps, she would be lying curled around him, offering her massive body and thick fur to ensure he stayed warm. It felt real enough for her she worried and fretted about him getting sick, which, hell, he appreciated that, too.

    Discontent, she pushed herself up on her front paws, shifting to lay her large head on his lap, red of her eyes vanishing as they slid closed. He ceased his rocking, running his hand through the thick coat, her ears folded back against her head.

    She whined again.

    She’d been waiting on the front porch steps when the angels released him and brought him home, chasing off the suited minions with a snarl and snap before urging him forward with her large head, body pushing him toward the house while keeping one gleaming red eye on the angels who didn’t dare step past the white picket fence into the yard.

    He’d patted her head as the house welcomed them home.

    That had been a while ago. There had been a pile of letters on his desk, each in an envelope with a red wax seal and delivered via magic circle. They were written in slanted, neat script he had to put on his glasses in order to read. He’d smiled, poured himself a scotch and settled into his seat, feet kicked up and ankles crossed as he picked through the letters to read one-by-one.

    Only one person wrote him, and the absence of the letters had been one of the harder parts of being locked away. He’d missed the companionship. Missed their stop-start conversations and the way the demon’s words always reflected his mood or the current crisis on Earth, especially when it opened mid-tantrum ranting about the mess Bobby’s boys had gotten themselves into that week. He’d missed the jotted down chess game instructions in the corner as they played an extended game one letter at a time.

    Frankly, he’d just missed Crowley.

    Life was funny like that. Unpredictable.

    The last letter was from months earlier, while Bobby’d still be in lockup. He’d looked under books and resorted through the letters double-checking dates. He’d searched around the desk in case any fell off but there weren’t any to find.

    He’d looked to the hellhound, bulky form having crawled up on the sagging couch and tucked herself into a ball best she could. She’d been whining then, too, just a soft sound.

    He hadn’t known a hellhound could cry and mourn before. It was possibly the saddest thing he’d ever heard.

    She’d stuck by his side every moment since. Anxious if he left her sight, prowling the house, checking corners, pacing for lack of a better option as she searched for threats and tried to find someone who wasn’t there.

    He’d just finished making the first pot of coffee for the morning when he saw her. Too big body sitting alert right in the middle of the library watching the front door, waiting, tail wagging in anxious anticipation. How long would she wait? Was it even possible to explain to her?

    Her head turned sharply at the creak of the screen door as he’d pushed it open and jerked his head to her. “C’mon, girl.”

    So they sat and watched the sun come up, the air too cold, but the coffee just how he liked.

    “I’d’ve rung the doorbell,” a woman’s voice greeted as she appeared between one blink and the next leaning against the banister on the porch regarding him with an amused quirk to her full mouth, “but I know you’re liable to answer with the business end of a gun.”

    Juliet was to her feet instantly, lips peeling back on a savage sound to reveal too many rows of teeth.

    The woman offered the hellhound a disapproving look. “Now, I let you by without a fuss. You wanna go making me regret it now?”

    Bobby watched the hesitation, watched as rows of teeth retracted and the hellhound sat back on her haunches still growling low in her throat, but cowed-- for the moment. He smirked, rolling his head around to regard their visitor, her short curly hair and black dress with a black coat.

    “That’s not the standard angel fare.” His eyes swiveled to her face. “Who are you?”

    “I’m Death,” she greeted, mischief dancing in her dark eyes before she inclined her head, “but you can call me Billie.”

    He gave her a dry once-over, reaching up to adjust his cap. “Not quite what I was expecting given Dean’s description. Pasty white guy. Scary as all get out.”

    “That was the last Death. Funnily enough, Dean killed him. Later, his beloved angel killed me, and then I was transformed into the new Death. There’s a whole cycle no one knew about since no one besides a Winchester would be fool enough to turn Death’s scythe against them.”

    A chuckle escaped it. “Sounds about like something those idjits would get up to.” He tilted his head, brow lifting. “Any, uh, long-term consequences?”

    “Aren’t there always?”

    He smiled into his coffee. “Well, so long as they ain’t the ones showing up unannounced…” She moved, leaning her shoulder against the wood support beam and regarding him. “You here to threaten me with something not quite so comfortable if I step out of line again?”

    “Oh no. Not my department.”

    “Then what brings Death to my door once more?”

    “A most unusual series of events and consequence I’m actually hoping you’ll take off my hands.” She smirked. “Would you believe your sons had a hand in it, too?”

    “Givin’ Heaven and Hell fits since the day they were born, ‘course, I’d believe it.” He snorted. “One of these days y’all are gonna learn to give ‘em a wide berth and not go kicking that particular hornet’s nest.”

    She laughed, the sound warm and low in her throat. He smiled and decided she was someone he could like just fine. Juliet’s steady growl cut off when he patted her head, and she settled for leaning her heavy body against his legs, red eyes never leaving their visitor.

    “Well, it seems Sam did something a bit unprecedented.”

    “For good or bad?”

    “Well-intended, as always, but not truly one way or the other.” She met his eye. “He partially recreated a soul.” She waved a hand. “Of course, completing the ritual would have ultimately killed Sam, so Dean talked him out of it, and that’s a whole road of consequences neither here nor there, but the _soul_ continued existing without fizzing out like it should have, instead stabilized itself with what it had at its disposal.”

    “And I’m guessing that’s why you got involved.”

    “Death _is_ my department,” she tipped her head, “and all things die. Even the odd and unusual that doesn’t fit in with the rest and, therefore, has no place to go.”

    His bushy brows drew together, eyes narrowed as he tried to work out what she was leading up to. “So, Sam created something, but when it finally died, because it wasn’t organic or whatever, Death’s not sure what to do with it and you wanna dump it in my lap?”

    “Only if you’re willing.” Her gaze slid to Juliet. “Considering your new companion dared cross barriers to come live with you rather than serving another, I thought you might be a solid match for one another, and despite your gruff exterior, you might not be so against the company.”

    He considered her, curiosity pressing hard, but too use to fine print and terms of service from Heaven and Hell so as to believe it was something so simple.

    “And if I say ‘no’?”

    She shrugged. “Then I’ll improvise. Throw them in the Empty. Maybe use a few my own tricks to erase their memories and make a new Reaper, I could use a competent assistant. Call in a favor and have them re-planted on Earth in a second life.”

    “Reincarnate them?” She nodded and his eyes narrowed further. “But you don’t want those options, so you came to me.”

    “You were my first choice.”

    “And just _why_ is that?”

    Her smile stretched, eyes sliding past him to the screen door leading into the kitchen. Footfalls, solid and heavy, sounded across the boards behind him, Italian leather on the polished wood.

    “...Hello, Darling.”

    Juliet jerked, tail thumping rapidly against the porch boards.

    Ducking his head to huff a laugh, trying to bite back a smile and failing, Bobby hid his face by adjusting his cap again.

    “He can stay,” was all he said.

    He could hear her smile. “I thought you might say that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't forget to comment!


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